‘You actually liked her.’ Sam grinned. ‘Goody two shoes and all.’
‘Well,’ Fitz said, ‘on alternate Thursdays.’ He put the lighter away and took a chocolate bar out of his shirt pocket and started playing with that instead. ‘Maybe.’
They turned into a narrow side street choked with parked cars. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for the vestal-virgin type,’ said Sam.
‘Yeah, well maybe there’s more to her than that.’
Time to squelch this, right now. ‘I’m not going to be impressed by you being sweet and wholesome.’
‘This isn’t for you,’ he shot back. ‘This is for the Doctor.’
‘What’s that supposed to –’
‘It’s the Law of Conservation of Niceness,’ he said. ‘It’s a fundamental principle of the universe, like Schrodinger’s cat or Heisenberg’s knickers.’ He twirled the chocolate bar in his fingers. ‘The Doctor’s always got to have someone around who can be fluffy and sympathetic. With your alter ego gone, for the safety of the cosmos, I have to make the supreme sacrifice. Give up smoking. And practise saying “Gosh wow!”’
She followed him around a corner, waiting until he’d wound down. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Just keep in mind she’s not me.’
He wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even looking at her. She reached out, wanting to grab him, shake him, drag him back into the real world and make him listen. There was a unicorn in front of them, big as a Clydesdale horse.
Bigger. Filling up the narrow alleyway in front of them. The horn was a spiralled lance of ivory as long as her arm, solid as a piano leg.
Its cream coat was streaked with grime, the tufts of hair above each hoof dirty and chewed-looking. Hard muscles rippled under the muddied skin as it began to clop towards them. It looked as though it could kick the buildings down.
The unicorn gave a low, rolling snort, looking from Fitz to Sam and back again, then moved closer. Zeroing in on her now, lowering its head to her level.
‘You have got to be taking the piss,’ said Sam.
The tip of its horn was right in her eyes now. She pulled backward as the point came on, and the unicorn snorted again and lowered its horn even further, tossing its head, forcing her to the side. She caught a glimpse of Fitz, almost hidden by the creature’s bulk. There was no way he could reach her. Then her back smacked into the alley wall and the horn was right across her throat, pinning her there.
‘C’mon,’ demanded the unicorn. Its voice was a deep growl, gravel at the bottom of the ocean. ‘Hand it over.’
Sam swallowed, felt the horn press against her voice box. ‘What?’ she managed.
‘The food. Hand it over now!’
Fitz unfroze, tugged the wrapper off his chocolate bar, and awkwardly pushed it into the unicorn’s mouth. Huge grooved teeth closed on the chocolate, nearly taking his fingertips with it.
‘It’s all we’ve got,’ said Fitz.
The unicorn chewed. With each chomp Sam felt the horn pushing against her neck. It only had to toss its head to draw blood, probably tear out her throat. All she could do was stare down the length of the horn, watching the giant nostrils flare, breathing the blasts of musky breath.
At last the unicorn backed off, nearly crushing Fitz into the opposite wall. The alley was too narrow for it to turn around.
Its head flicked back and forth, keeping its horn pointed at them. ‘Now get out of here,’ it growled. ‘Tell anyone and we’ll kill you, understand? We’ll kill you!’
The unicorn squeezed out into the wider alley on the other side, turned, and was gone.
‘You OK?’ Fitz asked.
Sam nodded. She didn’t feel like speaking yet. They both stared after the unicorn, until finally Fitz let out a small laugh.
‘This is Fitz,’ he said. ‘This is Fitz Kreiner’s life encapsulated in an instant.’
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
For Pagan, held up by a unicorn
Date: 2023-04-22 02:27 am (UTC)‘Well,’ Fitz said, ‘on alternate Thursdays.’ He put the lighter away and took a chocolate bar out of his shirt pocket and started playing with that instead. ‘Maybe.’
They turned into a narrow side street choked with parked cars. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for the vestal-virgin type,’ said Sam.
‘Yeah, well maybe there’s more to her than that.’
Time to squelch this, right now. ‘I’m not going to be impressed by you being sweet and wholesome.’
‘This isn’t for you,’ he shot back. ‘This is for the Doctor.’
‘What’s that supposed to –’
‘It’s the Law of Conservation of Niceness,’ he said. ‘It’s a fundamental principle of the universe, like Schrodinger’s cat or Heisenberg’s knickers.’ He twirled the chocolate bar in his fingers. ‘The Doctor’s always got to have someone around who can be fluffy and sympathetic. With your alter ego gone, for the safety of the cosmos, I have to make the supreme sacrifice. Give up smoking. And practise saying “Gosh wow!”’
She followed him around a corner, waiting until he’d wound down. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Just keep in mind she’s not me.’
He wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even looking at her. She reached out, wanting to grab him, shake him, drag him back into the real world and make him listen. There was a unicorn in front of them, big as a Clydesdale horse.
Bigger. Filling up the narrow alleyway in front of them. The horn was a spiralled lance of ivory as long as her arm, solid as a piano leg.
Its cream coat was streaked with grime, the tufts of hair above each hoof dirty and chewed-looking. Hard muscles rippled under the muddied skin as it began to clop towards them. It looked as though it could kick the buildings down.
The unicorn gave a low, rolling snort, looking from Fitz to Sam and back again, then moved closer. Zeroing in on her now, lowering its head to her level.
‘You have got to be taking the piss,’ said Sam.
The tip of its horn was right in her eyes now. She pulled backward as the point came on, and the unicorn snorted again and lowered its horn even further, tossing its head, forcing her to the side. She caught a glimpse of Fitz, almost hidden by the creature’s bulk. There was no way he could reach her. Then her back smacked into the alley wall and the horn was right across her throat, pinning her there.
‘C’mon,’ demanded the unicorn. Its voice was a deep growl, gravel at the bottom of the ocean. ‘Hand it over.’
Sam swallowed, felt the horn press against her voice box. ‘What?’ she managed.
‘The food. Hand it over now!’
Fitz unfroze, tugged the wrapper off his chocolate bar, and awkwardly pushed it into the unicorn’s mouth. Huge grooved teeth closed on the chocolate, nearly taking his fingertips with it.
‘It’s all we’ve got,’ said Fitz.
The unicorn chewed. With each chomp Sam felt the horn pushing against her neck. It only had to toss its head to draw blood, probably tear out her throat. All she could do was stare down the length of the horn, watching the giant nostrils flare, breathing the blasts of musky breath.
At last the unicorn backed off, nearly crushing Fitz into the opposite wall. The alley was too narrow for it to turn around.
Its head flicked back and forth, keeping its horn pointed at them. ‘Now get out of here,’ it growled. ‘Tell anyone and we’ll kill you, understand? We’ll kill you!’
The unicorn squeezed out into the wider alley on the other side, turned, and was gone.
‘You OK?’ Fitz asked.
Sam nodded. She didn’t feel like speaking yet. They both stared after the unicorn, until finally Fitz let out a small laugh.
‘This is Fitz,’ he said. ‘This is Fitz Kreiner’s life encapsulated in an instant.’