Fic: Little Blue Book (6/14)
Posted on 2008.08.14 at 21:16I am feeling...:
thirsty
Title: Little Blue Book (6/14)
Author:![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
shining_moment
Characters/Pairing: Doctor, Donna
Rating: G
Spoilers: Set during S4 but no specific spoilers.
Summary: I should know the Doctor well enough by now to know that he would have stored that date away in his mind in case he ever needed it but I really didn’t give it much thought.
Word Count: 829
Disclaimer: I don't own Donna, the Doctor or West Ham Utd.
Playing catch-up?
Chapter One Here
Chapter Two Here
Chapter Three Here
Chapter Four Here
Chapter Five Here
2nd May 1964. Hardly a momentous day in world history but, for a West Ham Utd fan, it doesn’t get much bigger than this and Gramps used to talk about it so much that I almost felt like I was there. 10th May 1980 was pretty big too though and I was there for that one- 8 years old and just about ready to pop with the excitement of seeing my team at Wembley in the FA Cup Final.
Ever since I can remember, I used to go to home games with Gramps and I loved it, loved everything about it; the game itself, the sheer thrill of seeing your team score right in front of you, the noise of thousands of people who felt exactly the same. If you’re not a football fan, you can probably never quite understand how we can get so enthusiastic about 11 blokes running around a field- usually in the rain, West Ham hardly being the centre of all things tropical.
The Doctor, as a non-human type, isn’t a football fan and the first time we talked about it he was just curious about what I meant when I said I’d learnt to whistle every Saturday at West Ham. He might not be a football fan but he understands what it means to believe in something, to be so passionate about something that makes no sense to plenty of others. So he listened when I told him that I always went with Gramps to the football and that he always used to tell me how he wished I’d been around for the ‘64 Cup Final, what he called the “finest moment in the history of the world”. Alright so that was probably a bit of a stretch but I’ve seen the match on DVD and I don’t think he was that far off.
I should know the Doctor well enough by now to know that he would have stored that date away in his mind in case he ever needed it but I really didn’t give it much thought. Until today when he opened the doors to show me that we were outside Wembley Stadium and it was FA Cup day 1964. The noise of two sonic devices put together had nothing on the squeal I let out when I that little penny dropped.
It was weird enough being at a game with someone other than Gramps, never mind being at one that actually happened before I was born and I swear this time travel stuff will never fail to blow me away no matter how many times we do it. I think the Doctor realised I was a bit overwhelmed by it all, bless him, because he took hold of my hand as we walked into the stadium and he didn’t let it go until we were sitting down. Actually, maybe it wasn’t really for my sake, maybe he just didn’t want to admit that he was the one who was a bit overwhelmed- I suppose 100,000 noisy football fans can do that to a newbie.
I still can’t quite believe what happened at half-time, I really can’t. We were coming back to our seats (he had insisted on buying a dodgy meat pie and a cup of the world’s worst tea) when he headed into the section next to ours because he said there was something he wanted me to see. He pointed out a man wearing a West Ham scarf and a huge warm smile and he didn’t need to tell me who it was, I’d know my own Gramps anywhere. Obviously, we couldn’t go and say hello, I don’t think even Gramps would have believed “Alright Wilf, I’m the Doctor and this is Donna, she’s your grand-daughter although she actually won’t be born for another 8 years”.
Oh, just seeing him was enough though, I mean how many people can say they went back in time and saw their own Gramps? Not bloody many, I’m sure! I couldn’t take my eyes off him, there was just something so amazing about seeing him here, at the match he’d spent half my childhood banging on about.
I don’t need to write down all the ins and outs of the match because, even if that meteor does hit me one day, I swear I will never forget this. When we got back here to the TARDIS I tried to thank the Doctor but I couldn’t find the right words. Me, Donna Noble, speechless. Definitely a first. I think he got what I was trying to say though because he gave me that little grin of his- the one that makes you realise that he does understand how brilliant all of this is even after all the years he’s been travelling- and just said I was welcome, that he was glad he could do something nice for me.
Of all the things in this diary, Gramps is never going to believe this one.
Author:
shining_momentCharacters/Pairing: Doctor, Donna
Rating: G
Spoilers: Set during S4 but no specific spoilers.
Summary: I should know the Doctor well enough by now to know that he would have stored that date away in his mind in case he ever needed it but I really didn’t give it much thought.
Word Count: 829
Disclaimer: I don't own Donna, the Doctor or West Ham Utd.
Playing catch-up?
Chapter One Here
Chapter Two Here
Chapter Three Here
Chapter Four Here
Chapter Five Here
2nd May 1964. Hardly a momentous day in world history but, for a West Ham Utd fan, it doesn’t get much bigger than this and Gramps used to talk about it so much that I almost felt like I was there. 10th May 1980 was pretty big too though and I was there for that one- 8 years old and just about ready to pop with the excitement of seeing my team at Wembley in the FA Cup Final.
Ever since I can remember, I used to go to home games with Gramps and I loved it, loved everything about it; the game itself, the sheer thrill of seeing your team score right in front of you, the noise of thousands of people who felt exactly the same. If you’re not a football fan, you can probably never quite understand how we can get so enthusiastic about 11 blokes running around a field- usually in the rain, West Ham hardly being the centre of all things tropical.
The Doctor, as a non-human type, isn’t a football fan and the first time we talked about it he was just curious about what I meant when I said I’d learnt to whistle every Saturday at West Ham. He might not be a football fan but he understands what it means to believe in something, to be so passionate about something that makes no sense to plenty of others. So he listened when I told him that I always went with Gramps to the football and that he always used to tell me how he wished I’d been around for the ‘64 Cup Final, what he called the “finest moment in the history of the world”. Alright so that was probably a bit of a stretch but I’ve seen the match on DVD and I don’t think he was that far off.
I should know the Doctor well enough by now to know that he would have stored that date away in his mind in case he ever needed it but I really didn’t give it much thought. Until today when he opened the doors to show me that we were outside Wembley Stadium and it was FA Cup day 1964. The noise of two sonic devices put together had nothing on the squeal I let out when I that little penny dropped.
It was weird enough being at a game with someone other than Gramps, never mind being at one that actually happened before I was born and I swear this time travel stuff will never fail to blow me away no matter how many times we do it. I think the Doctor realised I was a bit overwhelmed by it all, bless him, because he took hold of my hand as we walked into the stadium and he didn’t let it go until we were sitting down. Actually, maybe it wasn’t really for my sake, maybe he just didn’t want to admit that he was the one who was a bit overwhelmed- I suppose 100,000 noisy football fans can do that to a newbie.
I still can’t quite believe what happened at half-time, I really can’t. We were coming back to our seats (he had insisted on buying a dodgy meat pie and a cup of the world’s worst tea) when he headed into the section next to ours because he said there was something he wanted me to see. He pointed out a man wearing a West Ham scarf and a huge warm smile and he didn’t need to tell me who it was, I’d know my own Gramps anywhere. Obviously, we couldn’t go and say hello, I don’t think even Gramps would have believed “Alright Wilf, I’m the Doctor and this is Donna, she’s your grand-daughter although she actually won’t be born for another 8 years”.
Oh, just seeing him was enough though, I mean how many people can say they went back in time and saw their own Gramps? Not bloody many, I’m sure! I couldn’t take my eyes off him, there was just something so amazing about seeing him here, at the match he’d spent half my childhood banging on about.
I don’t need to write down all the ins and outs of the match because, even if that meteor does hit me one day, I swear I will never forget this. When we got back here to the TARDIS I tried to thank the Doctor but I couldn’t find the right words. Me, Donna Noble, speechless. Definitely a first. I think he got what I was trying to say though because he gave me that little grin of his- the one that makes you realise that he does understand how brilliant all of this is even after all the years he’s been travelling- and just said I was welcome, that he was glad he could do something nice for me.
Of all the things in this diary, Gramps is never going to believe this one.