The Redhead Outlander

The Idiot's Lantern

"What have you done to your hair?!"

The doctor styled his hair in the worst possible and imaginable way. A banana cut. Of all the haircuts the doctor or even David Tennant had ever worn, this was the worst in my eyes.

"What! You don't like it?" asked the Doctor, raising his head from the console with a beaten-dog look on his face.

"Absolutely not. Why, in the name of sanity, did you do that?"

"I thought it would be nice to go on a trip back in the 50s to see Elvis, and then I got this sudden impulse," he explains. "You really don't like it?" he asks with a heart-rending pout.

I shook my head in negation with a contrite smile.

"I'm sorry, but honestly it's not only your haircut I don't like. The 50s is one of my least favourite eras."

"What? How can you not like the fifties?!"

"I can give you several examples, if you like." I offered, resting peacefully against the console. "The Cold War, the Algerian war, the beginning of over-consumption, the thermonuclear bomb..." I cited, counting on my fingers. "I have plenty more examples, if you want."

"Nah, that's okay. I get it." replied the Doctor with a pout.

"You're pretty picky about your tastes, aren't you?"

"And it's only now you notice it?" I said with astonishment, eyebrow raised. "But I know sometimes it takes you a long time before you see the obvious things."

"Oi! That's not true!" denied the Doctor.

"What about the London Eye," I said, teasingly.

The Doctor grumbled and pouted like a child as I burst out laughing; still pouting he went to another room to the left of the console room, a room I'd never noticed before.

"Aw, come on!" I laughed, following him. "You're not going to pout over a little thing, are you?"

He shrugged and I rolled my eyes at the Doctor's childishness, we walked into the room which stored bikes, scooters, motorbikes and even a yellow car! I think it was the car that one of his former incarnations used to drive in the past. My gaze focused on a beautiful motorbike, a Triumph model Scrambler which if I was right looked just like the motorbike that Clara Oswald rode.

"Oooh, hello you pretty thing." I whistled with appreciation as I approached the vehicle, stars in my eyes.

"Did you find your happiness?" asked the Doctor sitting on a blue Tardis Vespa, ready to put on his helmet. "Do you even know how to drive?"

Oh, I know that blue vespa. I've saw it.

"My dad used to ride his own moto on his way to work and he taught me how to drive," I said as I picked up a black helmet from the rear wheel of the motorbike. "And I got my motorbike license about a month after I turned 18. I got it easily!"

I smiled at the good memories and the joy I felt that day, then I gave the Doctor a little teasing look before giving him one last spike.

"At least I got my licence."

"Seriously?!" the Doctor complained exaggeratedly. "When will you stop being so rude at me. May I remind you I'm the pilot here, I can always leave you anywhere."

"Never, Spaceman! And then you love me far too much to abandon me, and the Tardis would be angry at you."

"Unfortunately!" falsely deplored the doctor like a Drama Queen.

"Come on, Pretty Boy! Let's get some air!" I exclaimed as I turned on the motorbike's engine before putting on my helmet and gloves.

The rumbling of the bike made me high and put a huge smile on my lips as a little maniacal laughter escaped from those same lips. A few minutes later we were outside, both of us on our vehicle, although mine was slightly louder. I was so happy to be able to drive a bike; fortunately, I decided to wear trousers instead of a skirt, it would have been so much pain to drive.