Lost In Time: A Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter 5 - The Idiot's Lantern, Part 1

"I can't believe he just goes around with practically a drawer full of odds and ends in just one pocket!" Lyssa exclaimed, stepping out of the TARDIS in a light blue circle dress and matching ballet flats. She'd left her hair in the braid, but tied it off with a matching ribbon. "I mean, really, it's just kind of unfair. I could barely fit my lip balm in my pocket back ho... uh... there," she faltered, looking away.

Rose kindly ignored her hesitation. "Yeah. It's a bit weird at first, but you'll get used to it pretty quick," she assured her, wearing a similarly styled pink dress and a jean jacket. And, obviously more daring than Lyssa, she wore matching pink heels. "And, one of the best things about the TARDIS is she fixes our trousers - gives us actual pockets! Tell you what, 's the real reason I keep travelin' with the alien back there." She jerked a thumb at the TARDIS. "The adventurin's just a bonus."

Lyssa couldn't help but laugh. "Good enough reason for me," she grinned.

"I gotta say, as gorgeous as we both look, I thought we were going for the Vegas era," Rose admitted after a beat. "Y'know, the white flares and the, grr, chest hair," she mock-growled, turning to find the Doctor who was supposed to be somewhere behind them.

"You are kidding, aren't you?" he called back, still in the TARDIS. A faint roaring appeared in the distance, and he raised his voice to be heard above it. "You want to see Elvis, you go for the late fifties. The time before burgers. When they called him the Pelvis and he still had a waist. What's more," he added, appearing in the driveway atop a motorcycle, "you see him in style." He rolled slowly out of the TARDIS, wearing his usual suit but hair slicked back in deference to the times. "You going my way, dolls?" he asked in a sleazy American accent, helmet and shades on.

"Is there any other way to go, daddy-O? Straight from the fridge, man," Rose retorted in another variation of the accent, grinning.

"Hey, you speak the lingo!" the Doctor said excitedly. He pressed something on the front of the bike, and a small sidecar shimmered into existence, two helmets matching their dresses sitting neatly on the seat.

Lyssa grimaced. "Please tell me you don't think Americans actually speak like that? I will literally disown you."

Rose just laughed. "Mum was a big Cliff Richards fan. Used to watch them with her every bank holiday Monday. Obviously the movies are never wrong, so they've gotta be more legitimate than you, who's just an American."

"I mean, you're not wrong, but I've also never even heard of Cliff Richards before this, so how legitimate is he?" Lyssa teased.

"You're missing out," Rose told her smartly, climbing into the side car before Lyssa could. "We'll have to set up a marathon sometime."

"Oh, I was gonna - did you want me to take that?" Lyssa asked awkwardly. "I can ride in the side car if you want. I don't mind." 

Rose shook her head, looking absurdly amused about something as she tugged her helmet on. "Nope. Besides, I've never gotten to ride in a side car before, so it should be fun."

"If you sure," Lyssa conceded, carefully climbing on behind the Doctor and pulling on the remaining helmet. It took a moment, but she managed to secure the straps and sit more comfortably, tugging her dress down to cover her knees. "I've never ridden a motorcycle at all before, so this should be interesting."

"Really?" the Doctor asked, turning to look at her. When she nodded, he hummed. "I'll have to make sure it's a good first ride, then," he mused, turning back around and revving the motor. "You ready?"

"Go ahead," Rose called as Lyssa nodded, carefully placing her hands around the Doctor's waist so as to secure her hold. He took off and she abruptly tightened her grip as momentum lightly pushed her back. She quickly adjusted to the motion, loosening her grip slightly and looking around with glee as the wind brushed against her face. Obviously intending on keeping to his word, the Doctor whizzed them through the city at various speeds, clearly reveling in their shouts of laughter.