When the Sun Sets ☼ Eleven x Reader

XII - Kazran

When the cloud of ash had thinned, the two of you were faced with a room of very confused looking people. You could feel your face covered in coal and soot, and the Doctor began spluttering slightly as he tried to brush as much of it off as possible.

'Ah. Yes, blimey. Sorry, Christmas Eve on a rooftop. Saw a chimney. My whole brain just went 'what the hell!'

'Still very much wondering how you managed to get me to agree to this,' you mutter as you attempt to remove some of the soot gathered on your shoulders.

'Don't worry,' he continues, ignoring your comment regardless of whether he heard it or not.  'Fat fella will be doing the rounds later. I'm just scoping out the general... chimneyness! Yes!'

He wanders over to the fireplace, spouting something about the structure of the chimney and resting his hand firmly on the mantelpiece. After a second, he draws it back quickly in pain as a sizzling sound signifies the burning of his hand. You simply roll your eyes in response.

'Fat fella?' the man ahead of you asks.

'Father Christmas. Santa Claus. Or, as I've always known him, Jeff,'

'Sorry, Jeff?' you ask before anyone else has a chance to reply.

'I'll introduce you later.' the Doctor mutters slightly, winking subtly and turning back to the family.

'There's no such person as Father Christmas,' the boy says.

'Oh, yeah?' the Doctor whips an old photo from the inside of his tweed jacket. 'Me and Father Christmas, Frank Sinatra's hunting lodge, 1952. See him at the back with the blonde? Albert Einstein, the three of us together. Vroom! Watch out, okay?'

The boy looks over to you for some sort of translation. 'Don't worry, he always talks that fast,' you say reassuringly.

'Ooh, now, what's this then? I love this.' the Doctor continues, taking absolutely no notice of anything else being said. 'A big flashy lighty thing. That's what brought us here, [Y/N]. Big flashy lighty things have got me written all over them. Not actually, but give me time. And a crayon. Now, this big flashy lighty thing is connected to the spire in your dome, yeah? And it controls the sky. Well, technically it controls the clouds, which technically aren't clouds at all. Well, they're clouds of tiny particles of ice. Ice clouds. Love that. Who's she?' he asks, finally acknowledging the girl in the box. She was a blonde girl, of about nineteen, you guessed. Encapsulated in a large, white safe, only her face was visible through the frosted, pale blue glass.

'Nobody important.' the man behind him says. He was a tall fellow, with the sort of face that looked as if it was being weighed down by misery. From his general manner and attire, you guessed he probably owned this building.

'Nobody important. Blimey, that's amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space, I've never met anyone who wasn't important before.' He paused after that line, delivering a pointed look towards the man. 'Now, this console is the key to saving that ship, or I'll eat my hat. If I had a hat. I'll eat someone's hat. Not someone who's using their hat. I don't want to shock a nun, or something. Sorry, rambling, because this isn't working!'

'Doctor, you know you won't get anything done if you keep talking at it and pressing random buttons. Why don't you ask someone how it works?' you say, walking up behind the man. 'If only there were someone here who might know.' He looks down at you, and you smile up at him innocently.

'The controls are isomorphic. One to one. They respond only to me.'

'Oh, you fibber. Isomorphic. There's no such thing.' the Doctor scoffs. He continues to press buttons and flick switches, but with no avail. The man snakes his arm behind, presses a single button, and the machine shuts off. He does the same again, and the sound of the power whirring fills the room as the controls begin to spring into life. Looking up at him sceptically, the Doctor attempts to copy these actions, but with no response, once again.  'These controls are isomorphic.' he admits.