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Mar. 3rd, 2010

Right, well, I guess this is a fair bit overdue, but you'll probably want to know all about me and my unique quirks.

What's that? You're really not interested? Too bad, I'm gonna tell you anyway. So sit tight and I'll put the kettle on.

Important stuff out of the way first, my name's Nicola and I'm 20. Blonde haired (go figure ;p), blue eyed and easily distracted, that's me in a nutshell.

I live in New Zealand which, contrary to popular recent beliefs, is not overrun with Orcs. Welllll....not my city anyway.

Obviously, my favourite show is Doctor Who. I'm a new!who fan only, I was born one single day after the show last screened in 1989, but I'd love to see some of the classic episodes some time.

I enjoy reading fantasy books and things that get me away from normal life, I cook and bake, I listen to music and the radio, I watch TV and I live my life. Favourite band is Westlife - I waited 10 years to see them in concert and it was brilliant!

It may take a while, but I'll respond to any and all friend requests, comments and opinions you either post in my journal or send me :)

Cheerio for now!


Fic: Speaking of Spanners…

Title: Speaking of Spanners...
Words: 126
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: All Ages
Characters: Donna Noble, The Doctor (Duplicate 10th)
Spoilers: Journey's End.

Another JE AU written along the same lines as
Prophecies Are Made To Be Broken
but set earlier in the episode. Donna has a momentary lapse in concentration that costs her dearly.


Donna felt her temper go up several notches as the Doctor’s look-a-like continued to rant on about bloody spanners.

The last straw was calling her Earth-Girl.

The sound of skin hitting skin was so loud it was surprising that no-one on board the Crucible heard it. The twin reeled backwards in shock and rubbed his sore jaw, pouting.

Satisfied that that was that, Donna momentarily forgot that he had supposedly inherited some of her mannerisms and wasn’t prepared for what came next.


Several minutes later Donna sat nursing her sore cheek and bruised ego and plotting revenge on the half-Human, half-Martian who had wisely retreated to the hidden depths of the Tardis for fear of finding out whether he really couldn’t regenerate.

Fic: Prophecies Are Made To Be Broken

Title: Prophecies Are Made To Be Broken

Words: 78
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: All Ages
Characters: The Doctor (10th), The Doctor (Duplicate 10th)
Spoilers: Journey's End.

A/N: Because I was slightly peeved that we didn't see nearly enough of the 'DonnaDoctor'. There's a follow up fic that I will post later :)

A Little AU to JE set just after 10.5 does his stuff on board the Crucible. Just how much of Donna really ended up in him?


The Doctor sprinted around the console room, flicking switches and muttering in his special techno babble language. He had just finished adjusting the temporal pocket stabilisers when the Tardis gave an enormous jerk and mechanical screams began drifting through the doors. Before the Time Lord realised it his feet had carried him down the ramp and back onto The Crucible.

“What have you done?”

His double turned and grinned at him manically.

“What does it look like Spaceman?!”

Fic: Aliens Against the Doctor

Greg the Cyberman banged his iron gavel on the podium several times, in a desperate bid to get everyone’s attention.

“Settle down. Thank you Blon Fel-Fotch Pasameer-Day for that stirring list of reasons why you hate the Doctor and what you’ll do when you next see him. Our next speaker --”

He narrowly avoided being impaled by a harpoon and several silver bullets. Everyone took advantage of his lapse in concentration to once again start yelling, grunting or screeching their disapproval of the absent Time Lord.

It was several minutes before Cyber Greg could get a word in and then it was only because he grabbed the megaphone and threatened to Delete everyone unless they shut up.

“Whoever that is, if you shoot at me one more time, I will have you forcibly removed from the hall. Is that Understood?” Nobody said a word. “Our final speaker is Dalek Flak. Welcome him.”

Polite applause echoed around the hall as a bronze pepper pot trundled onto stage and the Cyberman lowered the microphone to its level. “Tell us why you’re here.”

“I — will — ex-ter-min-ate — the — Doc-tor!”

If Greg could have rolled his eyes he would have. “Well, obviously. Who doesn’t want to these days? Tell us why and then maybe we can help you.”

Flak’s eye stalk swivelled to face the Cyberman. “He — is — in-fer-ior. I — will — ex-ter-min-ate — the — Doc-tor!”

With great difficulty, Greg folded his arms as Flak began repeatedly chanting, “Ex-ter-min-ate, ex-ter-min-ate!’.

It was going to be a long night.

At the back of the hall, the Wire declared she was hungry and said in an undertone to the bored man next to her, “They think they’ve got it bad? The Doctor tried to tape a version of Casanova over me!”

The man perked up slightly at the talking portable television before rolling his eyes dramatically. “So? I was this”, he held his thumb and forefinger one millimetre apart, “close to universal domination and He had to go all glowly and ‘look at me, I can fly!’ But you know what the worst part was? He had to go and blubber all over my new suit!”

The Wire smiled pleasantly. "I tried to zap him on top of a 1950's TV transmitter--"

The Master rested his legs on the back of the chair in front of him and replied, "Big deal. I pushed him off the top of a radio telescope.”

The Wire’s eyes were bigger than her power button. “Oh, do tell sweetheart!”

The Master grinned. He did love a good audience.

Unfortunately for him, before he could begin the door swung open and every head - except the Master's (he steepled his fingers and tried his hardest not to do his trademark evil smirk. He failed.) - swung to the right to see who else had arrived with a vendetta against the Doctor.

The aforementioned gallifreyian was standing stock-still in the doorway and was rapidly turning a very pale shade of grey. “Uhh…looks like you’re busy, I’ll come back later!”

He slammed the door and hot footed it back to the Tardis, dodging various laser beams and followed by several hundred irate aliens.

Rose had her feet propped on the console when the Doctor wrenched open the doors and tore up the ramp. Without looking up from the magazine she was reading she said, “I told you not to answer any weird Bebo invitations — especially if it’s from someone who signs in as 'doctorsnemesis'!”.

*pokes head in*

So I was thoroughly bored at work today and decided on a whim to come and join LJ.