fic: "Library Card" (Doctor Who)
May. 13th, 2010 08:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolI wrote more fic. I haven't been this prolific since I was, er, fifteen. It is less real fic, and more 'so you are in work for an hour by yourself every night and there is no one to directly observe you'. I could catch up on my paperwork, but that would make too much sense, clearly.
It is also very un-betaed, and should be treated as just a bit of fun.
Title: Library Card
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. This is strictly non-profit. Alas.
Summary: Shoreditch Library has a very strict membership policy. Spoilers for Vampires in Venice.
“Mr...”
“Doctor Smith, John Smith,” said the man at the desk irritably, thumping his cane down on the floor. “Can't you see my library card?”
“Doctor Smith,” said the librarian coldly, “this is the Shoreditch Library. We only accept valid library cards here, not blank pieces of paper giving a name and a desired book title.”
“Madam, this is a valid library card, and you should be able to see it!”
The librarian leaned over the desk and looked directly into the eyes of the older white haired man across the desk. “You will take no book out of this library without a valid library card. We are an institution. You are more than welcome,” she added with a sniff, “to apply for a library card.”
“Apply? For a library card? Me? I've seen all of the best libraries in the universe,” the man spluttered. “Of all the outrageous...”
“It is not outrageous, sir, it is the rules of this library.”
The old man peered back across the desk. “You must have unusual psychic abilities, my dear.”
“I'll thank you not to insult me, sir. Good day to you. You may, of course, come back to apply for your card at any time.”
–
Later on in the same day, a young girl came into the library. The librarian peered over her spectacles at her. “Can I help you?”
“Hello,” said the girl awkwardly. “My grandfather was in here earlier and he wanted to borrow a book for me. I'm going to be starting a new school around here, and he thought it was important that I learnt about this planet's culture. This is his card?”
She held up a piece of paper. A very familiar piece of paper. The librarian drew herself up as high as she could. “Young lady, as I told your grandfather, only a Shoreditch Library card is acceptable here.”
“Oh.” The girl looked at the piece of paper, and back to the library. “You know you shouldn't have psychic abilities like this when humans haven't evolved them properly yet. It's quite interesting, really. You should have children, and pass the genes on properly. Have you had children yet?”
The librarian counted to ten in her head, as slowly as she could. “Young lady,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster, “I have no idea why you, and your grandfather, are coming in here to pester me today. If you need a book for school, you are more than welcome to have a library card of your own and end this charade.”
“Oh no!” said the young girl, shaking her head vigorously. “Grandfather really doesn't want me to have anything like that.”
“Well, he can come in with a small passport photograph and get a card all of his own, but for now you will take no books out of this library, do you hear me?”
“Yes,” said the young girl quietly. “I'll go home and ask Grandfather, then.”
She slunk out of the library again. The librarian felt a stab of guilt, which neatly covered all the questions brewing to the surface, like 'psychic abilities' and 'planet'.
–
The next day, a familiar figure came into the library, still resplendent with hat and cane. The librarian sighed.
“Sir, as I told you last time...”
“Oh, last time, never mind last time!” The old man smiled, rather charmingly. “Let's forget all that nonsense, hmm? My granddaughter tells me you need a photograph, will this do?”
He passed over a pristine passport photograph. The librarian scrutinised it closely. “That seems to be in order,” she said reluctantly, prising open the drawer with new library cards in and placing on reverently within the typewriter. The old man seemed to be more genial now, watching the process with interest. “Doctor Smith, was it?”
“Doctor John Smith. I assume my name is in order, yes?”
“Of course,” the librarian replied shortly, typing in the name. “And address?”
“76 Totters Lane,” the old doctor replied promptly.
“Very well,” said the librarian, quickly typing up the card – which was already labelled 87389 – and affixing the photograph to it. “Here you are,” she said, passing over the card. “You see, identification that is recognised by the Shoreditch Library.”
Doctor Smith peered at it, seemingly fascinated. “I've never needed any other sort of identification, you know,” he said.
“Well, you will need this one now. You can use it at any London library,” the librarian said, with a touch of pride.
“Can you now? Dear me, that will be useful. Now, can I take that book out for my grand-daughter?”
–
The librarian never saw Doctor Smith again.. She dreamt of Venice that night, which was odd, as she'd never been there. She also never saw the book again, and the reminder letters were eventually returned unopened. For some reason, though, this didn't surprise the librarian.
It is also very un-betaed, and should be treated as just a bit of fun.
Title: Library Card
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. This is strictly non-profit. Alas.
Summary: Shoreditch Library has a very strict membership policy. Spoilers for Vampires in Venice.
“Mr...”
“Doctor Smith, John Smith,” said the man at the desk irritably, thumping his cane down on the floor. “Can't you see my library card?”
“Doctor Smith,” said the librarian coldly, “this is the Shoreditch Library. We only accept valid library cards here, not blank pieces of paper giving a name and a desired book title.”
“Madam, this is a valid library card, and you should be able to see it!”
The librarian leaned over the desk and looked directly into the eyes of the older white haired man across the desk. “You will take no book out of this library without a valid library card. We are an institution. You are more than welcome,” she added with a sniff, “to apply for a library card.”
“Apply? For a library card? Me? I've seen all of the best libraries in the universe,” the man spluttered. “Of all the outrageous...”
“It is not outrageous, sir, it is the rules of this library.”
The old man peered back across the desk. “You must have unusual psychic abilities, my dear.”
“I'll thank you not to insult me, sir. Good day to you. You may, of course, come back to apply for your card at any time.”
–
Later on in the same day, a young girl came into the library. The librarian peered over her spectacles at her. “Can I help you?”
“Hello,” said the girl awkwardly. “My grandfather was in here earlier and he wanted to borrow a book for me. I'm going to be starting a new school around here, and he thought it was important that I learnt about this planet's culture. This is his card?”
She held up a piece of paper. A very familiar piece of paper. The librarian drew herself up as high as she could. “Young lady, as I told your grandfather, only a Shoreditch Library card is acceptable here.”
“Oh.” The girl looked at the piece of paper, and back to the library. “You know you shouldn't have psychic abilities like this when humans haven't evolved them properly yet. It's quite interesting, really. You should have children, and pass the genes on properly. Have you had children yet?”
The librarian counted to ten in her head, as slowly as she could. “Young lady,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster, “I have no idea why you, and your grandfather, are coming in here to pester me today. If you need a book for school, you are more than welcome to have a library card of your own and end this charade.”
“Oh no!” said the young girl, shaking her head vigorously. “Grandfather really doesn't want me to have anything like that.”
“Well, he can come in with a small passport photograph and get a card all of his own, but for now you will take no books out of this library, do you hear me?”
“Yes,” said the young girl quietly. “I'll go home and ask Grandfather, then.”
She slunk out of the library again. The librarian felt a stab of guilt, which neatly covered all the questions brewing to the surface, like 'psychic abilities' and 'planet'.
–
The next day, a familiar figure came into the library, still resplendent with hat and cane. The librarian sighed.
“Sir, as I told you last time...”
“Oh, last time, never mind last time!” The old man smiled, rather charmingly. “Let's forget all that nonsense, hmm? My granddaughter tells me you need a photograph, will this do?”
He passed over a pristine passport photograph. The librarian scrutinised it closely. “That seems to be in order,” she said reluctantly, prising open the drawer with new library cards in and placing on reverently within the typewriter. The old man seemed to be more genial now, watching the process with interest. “Doctor Smith, was it?”
“Doctor John Smith. I assume my name is in order, yes?”
“Of course,” the librarian replied shortly, typing in the name. “And address?”
“76 Totters Lane,” the old doctor replied promptly.
“Very well,” said the librarian, quickly typing up the card – which was already labelled 87389 – and affixing the photograph to it. “Here you are,” she said, passing over the card. “You see, identification that is recognised by the Shoreditch Library.”
Doctor Smith peered at it, seemingly fascinated. “I've never needed any other sort of identification, you know,” he said.
“Well, you will need this one now. You can use it at any London library,” the librarian said, with a touch of pride.
“Can you now? Dear me, that will be useful. Now, can I take that book out for my grand-daughter?”
–
The librarian never saw Doctor Smith again.. She dreamt of Venice that night, which was odd, as she'd never been there. She also never saw the book again, and the reminder letters were eventually returned unopened. For some reason, though, this didn't surprise the librarian.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 07:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 08:36 pm (UTC)I shall have to try to find you the drabble that I wrote for
*EDIT*
Oh, that was easy.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 08:59 pm (UTC)(repost b/c I am tired and replied to the wrong entry)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-15 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 07:47 pm (UTC)