Mandy MacMay
5 months ago
Please go follow me on Teaspoon

For my handful of followers, thanks! My stories, Latitudes and Grenadine will be updated from here on at I’ve decided to limit my posting to AO3, Teaspoon and, and stop using Tumblr. The interface here is just too cumbersome, with too much noise-to-signal. See you over there!

Latitudes - Chapter 4 - Madman in a Box


Story Synopsis: Checking in on the new pocket-universe Gallifrey after the events of The Day of the Doctor, the Tenth Doctor finds it is a much nicer place than he remembers. It’s also the only home the Ninth Doctor has ever known. An AU Nine/Rose/Ten reunion fic.

Chapter Synopsis: The Tenth Doctor materialises on Gallifrey, but doesn’t receive the reception he hoped for

Rating: Adult for later chapters (aye, there be smut ahead, lads and lassies)

Characters: Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor, Tenth Doctor


It had been a bumpy ride, indeed. He had thought there were five ways he might puncture through unimpeded to the pocket universe where Gallifrey spun, but turns out there was only one, and it had been a doosie. He massaged the growing lump on his skull. Damn that Fourier-stringshift tensioner knob, he thought, and made a mental note to move it straightaway, somewhere down at knee-level, when he’d done with his little impromptu Old Home Day.

He did not peek with the view screen, wishing instead to see his miraculously restored home-planet directly in person, and all at a rush, a “big reveal” as it were, in keeping with the solemn consequence of the moment: The Doctor Returns. They would have sensed his materialisation sequence, the information spreading quickly. It was bound to have sent all sorts of important Lords and Ladies, along with grateful members of the general public, scrambling to greet him. “Might just throw me a banquet,” he mused, and found himself remembering Gallifrey’s famous Phlogian soufflés. Still thinking of the soufflé, how the introduction of proper colloidal foams at three points in the whipping process made the eggs and oat flour rise higher than a man’s head, he swung both Tardis doors dramatically out into the heart of the Citadel’s main plaza and posed there, proudly, for a moment, remarking (about the soufflé, of course, not the plaza), “It’s so fluffy!”

There was no one about to witness this curious entrance save a pair of Academy students, young women, who put their hands over their mouths and giggled. 

“Excuse me,” he asked, walking to where they sat perched on a low wall beside their stacked readers and the matrix-erudition-access beanies from which they were currently taking a break. The girls regarded him brightly. “Thought I would stop in and see how you were all getting on.” They were unresponsive to this small speech. Was it possible they did not know him? “It’s me. Oh, perhaps you’ve only seen a former incarnation—but surely you know my Tardis,” he said, gesturing back toward the ship he had just emerged from. “Bit famous, now, I’m sure!”

“We were informed parking of TT capsules is not allowed in recreational areas,” one remarked, archly. 

“And shouldn’t you always have it in plain-front, here on Gallifrey?” asked the other. She turned to her companion. “Truliana, I’ve forgot again, is it Sections 48 tango through zed or 63 alpha to delta that cover the standard appearance of capsules when berthed?”

“62, Jordna,” Truliana replied, shaking her head.

Jordna sighed. “Before exams next week I’ll have to revisit that entire Codex yet again. For the life of me I can’t seem to retain it.”

“She’s right about the rule, though,” Trulania scolded the Doctor. “Its purpose, as you must know from your own training, is to keep the original manufacturer’s marks clearly visible, so that you may be identified at a glance.” She narrowed her eyes and asked, “How do we know you’re not an alien who has stolen this capsule?” 

“Yes,” Jordna chimed in, “unauthorised use of a TT capsule is a serious matter. You could get up to all sorts of no good with one of those.”

The Doctor tugged at his left earlobe. “Well, uh, yes…”

“Who did you say you were?” Truliana inquired.

“The Doctor.”

“Doctor who?”

“Yes, exactly!” he cried, rather too loudly. “Saved your planet and a sack more, couple weeks back?” he went on, beginning to bounce on his toes excitedly. “Trillions of lives on countless worlds, thousands of advanced civilisations spared from being blasted out of time by the terrible Moment?” At their blank stares he added, gesturing across the air one word at a time, “Gallifrey Falls No More?” Then he shot two fingers into the air and pretended to shake something back and forth. “Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Ring any bells?” The Doctor’s voice had become shrill, his face red.

During this speech, the girls had begun to stand, gingerly gathering up their things whilst keeping out one watchful eye. Backing away, slowly, Jordna put on a weak smile and lightly proclaimed, “Oh, look at the time, sorry but we’ll have to be getting on, now.” 

“Classes, you know,” Truliana added, reaching to turn her friend’s shoulder in the direction of the nearest exit, pushing to urge her away.

As the girls made a rapid retreat, the Doctor called after them, “Can you at least inform someone I’m here?” They did not respond, and were quickly gone from view. 

The Doctor scanned the vaulted roof of the plaza, knowing there must be several cameras about. He waved his arms and shouted, “Hello! I’m here! Last of the Time Lords no more and all that! Hello!” The stillness unnerved him. His arms fell to his sides. “Blimey,” was all he could get out, and he puffed up his cheeks and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.

A few hundred metres down the west walkway, Main Plaza Security Station Three was, indeed, watching closely. They had been monitoring the situation since hearing the Tardis’ first groanings. A short, dapper man with a thin face, wearing a Captains braids, was worriedly speaking into a nearby microphone. “Yes, sir, he’s still here, just standing about. Yes, the doors are wide open to it, and it appears fairly…messy, in there, sir, messy is the word for it. Like it’s been in an accident. Yes, sir. Roger that.” The man flicked off the communications unit, then turned to two other security men who were at attention, awaiting orders. “We’re asked to stand by. Two members of the Council and their Chamber Guard are on their way to deal with him, themselves.”

“I say, he must be one a theirs, fellow Time Lord, eh? And they think he’s a dangerous one, at that!” remarked one of the security men.

“Stand by, alright then, I will,” replied the other, but in a gruff tone added, “though no promises if I sees ‘im menacin’ any more of our impressionable young people.”

“Just hold tight, Dunleedy,” his fellow officer said, rolling his eyes. “The man is obviously a loon, he doesn’t need you rearranging his skull.”

“No, Peete,” said the Captain, a broad smile breaking out on his face at his own coming joke, “a psychiatrist’ll tend to that!”

All three laughed loudly, then turned their eyes back to watch the intruder. 

“He’s got a coat like a space pirate I saw in a film, once, as a boy,” remarked Dunleedy. 

“His hair is certainly gone wild,” noted the Captain. 

“Didn’t realise how quiet it’s been around here, lately. Exciting stuff, this,” grinned Peete. “Exciting stuff!”

5 months ago


Story Synopsis: Checking in on the new pocket-universe Gallifrey after the events of The Day of the Doctor, the Tenth Doctor finds it is a much nicer place than he remembers. It’s also the only home the Ninth Doctor has ever known. An AU Nine/Rose/Ten reunion fic.

Chapter Synopsis: Rose lands in a peaceful village, and is taken to see the local doctor.

Rating: Adult for later chapters (aye, there be smut ahead, lads and lassies)

Characters: Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor, Tenth Doctor



“Here,” Rose whispered into her communication link. It took an enormous quantity of energy to get each message through, so they had trained themselves early on to keep it short. Mick and Jake were likely beside themselves with curiosity as to what she was seeing, at each jump, but they would have to wait to find out.

Not that Rose knew what she was seeing, either, not exactly. She had landed in a thick wood with dappled sunlight, by a rushing stream that poured its clear water along a bed of smoothed, round rocks. Larger moss-covered boulders dotted the bank, hosting in their lee scattered clumps of plants that looked like Earth ferns, except these were a warm orange color. That was all fairly normal, but just beyond the wood there was a large clearing where, she could see through the tree trunks, there were humanoids, dressed all alike, moving in unison. She quietly walked forward to get a better look.

The field was covered by yellow-gold grass, neatly kept, making a fine public space for the dozens of people upon it. Male and female, all wore the same sarong, fastened at the shoulder, each the same brilliant blue. Rose recognized their movement as a sort of tai-chi-chuan. “They’re having their morning exercise,” Rose guessed. She waited patiently, not wanting to interrupt, and took in the rest of the area. Beyond the open field were neatly-landscaped gardens.

A bell rang and all the people bowed quietly then broke ranks. As some strolled off and others began chatting up their neighbors, Rose took a deep breath and stepped out of the woods. They all looked friendly enough. Sometimes a direct approach was the best thing. A pair of friends, a woman and younger man, paused in their conversation to watch her curiously, smiling as she neared. “Excuse me,” she said, “I’m looking for a man they call the Doctor.”

“Where have you walked from, then?” a woman asked.

“Oh, just popped in,” Rose answered.

“Who did you say you were looking for again?” the man asked.

“The Doctor,” Rose answered. “Travels around in a blue box with a little light on the top of it? No?”

“Sounds like something he’d do,” said the young man. “He’s forever making gadgets, don’t know why he left the Academy, really.”

The woman suggested, “Let’s take her up to town. The Doctor was going fishing this morning but he’s likely back by now.”

“So you do know someone here goes by that name?” Rose asked, as they began walking.

“Yes,” the two answered, but by the time they had led her through the lovely public gardens and out into a town of rustic glass-fronted buildings with their backs built into mounds of earth, serviced by lanes of pounded dirt, Rose had determined that this Doctor they were going to see must be merely their resident GP, and that these people were too technologically backward to be of any further help. Still, she thought she would be polite and at least let them finish their errand on her behalf, before jumping off again.

They came to a large earth-building, its front glass walls slid open to the morning air, its yard scattered with large bits of junk. Happy whistling came from inside, then a bit of singing in a competent baritone:

Winding a worm ‘round me hook,
It gave me a quizzical look.
I threw me rod down,
And walked into town,
To round up a chicken to cook!

“Doctor!” called out Rose’s guides, together.

A tall, chiseled man, wearing nothing but a pair of drape-y, blue running shorts and a rubber apron came strolling out his front door, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. “Good morning,” he greeted them.

“This lady says she’s looking for you,” ventured the woman.

“She is?” he answered, and looked Rose over.

Fixed by those blue eyes appraising her up and down, those shining eyes in that beloved face she knew so well but had almost forgotten, in the cruel way time treats everything we hold dear, Rose could not think of what to say. She began to tremble, and then, to her own dismay, found herself bursting into tears.

Her legs began to give way, and if this man who was, impossibly, her first Doctor, had not come to her in two strides and caught her up in his strong hands, she would have dropped straight to the ground.

“Oi, none of that, now!” he said to her gently, and pulled her up into his arms. As he carried her inside, to have a proper look at her in the small surgery he kept at home, he bent his head closer to her, to hear her heartbeat. He smiled. He felt the appropriate amount of concern for her, of course, but he was thrilled something out of the ordinary was happening today. He was the type who was always wishing for something exciting, and this girl surely fit the bill. Not only did she have void energy all over her, and a trans-dimensional travel device strapped to her arm, she was also an alien. Yep, he confirmed, hearing her one heart-beat: definitely not Gallifreyan.

5 months ago


Chapeter 10: Room Service

Characters: Eighth Doctor, Charlotte Pollard

Genre: HorrorRomance

Rating: Mature

Chapter SummaryCharley and the Doctor are settled into their gilded cage aboard Acris and Sheila’s spaceship.

david x billie: existential feelings brought on by stargazing


1,800 words; smut, angst, hammocks
beta: kahki820 | ao3

Billie’s downing her third vodka soda when the energy in the room begins to buzz.

Her eyes lock on David’s immediately when he walks into the party of some producer’s sprawling country home, one her agent twisted her arm into attending. She slowly rakes her gaze downwards along his body, drinking in rough stubble and crisp plaid and the tight trousers that she’s always loved on him. When her eyes drift back to his face she swears there are traces of a smirk.

But since their quick hellos upon his arrival they’d been skirting around each other all night, exchanging flashes of uneasy smiles across trays of crudités and bubbling-over bellinis. It wasn’t often that their paths crossed nowadays at these industry affairs, strategic networking events passed off as lighthearted soirees just because the liquor was free and flowing.

Read More

We’re not allowed to post this real-people stuff on Teaspoon so imagine my delight when I found it on Tumblr! And by one of the most talented DW Fanfiction writers, ever! Yay, you made my day.

Cite Arrow via thebadddestwolf
5 months ago
Grenadine - Chapter 9


Chapeter 9: All Aboard

Characters: Eighth Doctor, Charlotte Pollard

Genre: HorrorRomance

Rating: Mature

Chapter SummaryCharley and the Doctor are lured aboard the strangers’ sleek vessel.


“Yes, lots of people notice that right off,” the Doctor replied. “The exterior shell exists in a different dimension from inside, so it’s not a matter of bigger on the inside, it’s a matter of being somewhere else. I’d tour you ‘round, but don’t we have more pressing things to attend to now?” the Doctor said. 

“Yes, my husband, Acris, he’s on the floor just inside, there. Can you please go and have a look at him?”

“Of course, of course!” the Doctor replied. “Charley, go to the infirmary, and fetch my medical bag, the one I use for house calls; brown and tan, alligator skin, yes?” Charley dutifully headed off. “Now, let’s have a look at–Acris. Funny, that name, it sounds like an old Earth fable I once heard told at a forum in ancient Thessaly.” He ducked into the damaged ship and turned the corner toward the flight deck, bounding up a short set of stairs with Sheila moving in closely behind him.

Upon reaching the deck, the Doctor took in Acris’ condition. His lips set tightly. “Well this is disappointing,” he said. Then, trying to brighten his expression, he lifted his arms out from his sides, away from his body, in the universal gesture of I-mean-you-no-harm, and introduced himself. “Hello, I’m the Doctor. I was going to show you and your lovely wife around my Tardis after I patched you up, but I imagine you’ve already seen her?”

Charley had reached the infirmary quickly, then returned to the stranger’s ship at a run, not slowing until she hurled herself aboard. Following the sound of voices, she climbed the stairway, shoving the heavy medical bag ahead of her until she reached the top and heaved it a final time onto the flight deck. She clambered up the last step and stood, gaping. “Oh, come on, not this again!” Charley cried, stamping her foot. “This makes two times this week I’ve been kidnapped! I could really do with a change of scenario,” she finished, dryly.

She could see that the injured man, Acris, was fully conscious, and in conspicuously good health, sitting easily in his pilot’s seat. Swiveled around to face them, he was also in control of a long, sinister black metal pistol, which he was aiming directly at the Doctor’s chest. 

“Charley, here you are,” the Doctor said, calmly. “As you can see, our friend is relievedly unscathed.” He looked at the bag she had hauled over. “Sorry you were sent on a fool’s errand,” he added. Turning his attention back to the gun pointed at him, he began regarding it appreciatively. “So, deformation gun, then, is it?” he asked, addressing Acris. “Frangible ammunition, excellent choice for space. Bullet stops just inside a person, preferably against a rib, then breaks into thousands of pieces, causing a thorough carve-up internally. Fragments can even get right into the blood stream, blow an artery, in case you’ve bad aim and missed hitting a vital area on the first go. As I said, just the thing for space travel, isn’t it. No danger a bullet might blast out the back of your victim’s body and pierce your expensive hull—” 

“That’s enough nattering, Doctor,” Sheila said, stepping over to the ship’s console. She waved her hand in a series of deft gestures above a small screen and the deck shuddered. “Breach is closed,” she said to Acris. “Give me a moment to disconnect us from the Time Lord’s shielding.”

Charley clenched her fists at her side, and cried, “What do you mean by luring us on board under false pretenses? What do you intend to do with us?”

“Yes,” the Doctor continued. “I’d love to know what your goal is here, perhaps I can help?”

Acris sighed and lowered his weapon a few centimeters. “It’s a need-to-know thing, Doctor, sorry. We’re not going to kill you, if you’re worried about that. Not going to rough you up or rob you or do anything–freaky–with you. We just need you and your human friend to come along quietly with us, and see to it that you are both secured. For a short while, a few weeks, at most. Afterwards, I promise we’ll deliver you back here to your time ship, wipe your memories, then you can go happily about your way, like we never met.”

Sheila moved behind Charley and took her gently, but firmly by the tops of her arms, pulling her close to her chest. Tall and strong, the older woman easily had control of Charley’s movements. 

The Doctor, seeing his companion restrained, made as if to move to her, but Acris quickly lifted his gun again. “Ah, ah, ah, Doctor. None of that. We can accomplish our mission without harming you, but the truth is, you are both fully expendable as well. I don’t want to have to shoot you, but I would if you forced me to it.”

Speaking over the top of Charley’s head the taller woman said, “Believe me, we would really prefer it if you would behave as our guests.”

Charley struggled a bit then gave the woman a sharp backwards kick to her shin. 

“Ow!” Sheila howled.

“That’s our thanks,” Charley replied. “For the hospitality.”

5 months ago
5 months ago
Latitudes - Chapter Two - “Cracking Time”


Story Synopsis: Checking in on the new pocket-universe Gallifrey after the events of The Day of the Doctor, the Tenth Doctor finds it is a much nicer place than he remembers. It’s also the only home the Ninth Doctor has ever known. An AU Nine/Rose/Ten reunion fic.

Chapter Synopsis: Rose readies for a jump from Torchwood on Pete’s World.

Rating: Adult for later chapters (aye, there be smut ahead, lads and lassies)

Characters: Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor, Tenth Doctor



Rose shrugged on her jumping jacket and zipped in. Its leather thick but pliable, it was a dazzling shade of purple-cum-indigo, all zippers and high fashion for Pete’s World at the time. Rose wanted something bad-ass to gird her ribcage, and her heart, while she put them both on the line, ripping holes in the universe, searching for him. Then there were the eye-popping body-hugging velvet tops, the bespoke boots, the designer jeans, the oversized gold gypsy hoops. Word got around Torchwood: “She jumps in ‘er night-clubbing clobber!” “Have to look presentable when I save the universe, yeah?” she would explain.

It was time for another go. Rose’s stomach growled noisily; she had eaten nothing for twelve hours, as dimension cannon was an immensely nauseating way to travel. Jake laughed. “Hope they got a chippie on the corner when you land,” he said.

It was only Jake and Mickey with her. They were the only ones allowed in these few minutes before she left out, at her own request. Not because they were experts, far from it, but these moments were hard on her, and she knew her nerves would not support a bunch of engineers bustling about. Torchwood’s Trans-Dimensional Cannon team would just have to find a way to monitor things from another room. She had her two “button-pushers,” and that’s all she wanted. Jake because he was silly, he kept things light. Mickey because he was the only one in this universe who really understood where they came from, what she had been through. If she never made it back, if the stars finished going out one by one before she could contact the Doctor and find a solution, she wanted Mickey there with her as near the end as possible.

Pete had wanted them to jump together, originally, her and Mick. He was a big believer in the buddy system, a leftover from his Scouting days, evidently. But the Director of Torchwood had to finally bow to the evidence their scientists were giving them that the dimension cannon could only take one person at time. More than that, and the holes they were punching in their universe would get beyond safety parameters. Though using the words “dimension cannon” and “safe” together was problematic: this enterprise was in no way “safe”, for anyone, in any number. If the sky had not been going dark they would have never risked the trauma of trans-dimensional travel. They knew it was cracking the carapace of space-time, and though, theoretically, disturbances limited below a certain threshold would naturally right themselves, they could never be sure how the cannon would perform in the field. Certainly the more jumps Rose made, the more of a statistical chance there was for something surprising to occur, and not in a good way.

Rose was well aware that the possibility of seeing her Doctor again, to touch him, hear his voice, feel the warmth of him pressed to her in the reuniting embrace she had obsessively fantasised since the day the cannon was proposed, that possibility was merely appended to their need to stop all of existence from being snuffed out like a candle-flame. This was not about her finding her lost love. It was about saving this galaxy, maybe even the entire universe, she told herself. Still, she could not stop her heart from beating wildly, or keep herself from grinning madly, eyes wide with joy, as she crouched down now on the polished concrete floor and heard Jake flicking open the safety lid on the cannon’s controls.

“Oi, Annie Oakley,” Mickey handed Rose an absurdly large plasma rifle. “Don’t forget your gun.”

“Thanks, Mick,” Rose smiled, flinging the strap over her shoulder. She looked at Jake, poised at the controls, and gave one, short, nod. She was ready.

“Mind the universe while I’m gone, all right, boys—“ and the flash of brilliant blue streaking light took her along with her words, toward whatever destination fate might have in store.

New Facebook Group for talking about DW Fanfic!

I’ve started a Facebook group for people to talk about Doctor Who fanfiction, fan art, fan videos, fan comics… all of fandom’s creative side! I would love for it to be a place for searching out lost fics, recommending fics, talking about writing, and more.

5 months ago
Latitudes - Chapter One

Title: Latitudes

Characters: 9th Doctor, 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Time Lords

Rating: Adult

Checking in on the new pocket-universe Gallifrey after the events of The Day of the Doctor, the Tenth Doctor finds it is a much nicer place than he remembers. It’s also the only home the Ninth Doctor has ever known. An AU Rose/Ten reunion fic.


Last of the Time Lords…nope. Gallifrey lives! 

He should be happy. He was, really. Well, maybe not happy…relieved. Glad…ish? It was hard to process, really. He was still quite sorry for what he had been willing to do, releasing The Moment. Thrilled it had not been the genocidal action he thought it was at first go.

He was also a little anxious that they were back, all the Time Lords. What if they began interfering again? With the universe, with him. What would keep them from dragging him into some new awful mess that should never be allowed to have become? Or something like that. Verbs, touchy things with time traveling. He nervously scratched at his neck. 

Maybe he should pop ‘round and give them a look-see…give them a what for, more likely! “Bloody bastards!” he cried into the vault of the control room. “What did you put me through?” He paced for a minute, trying to decide what to do about all this, if anything. The planet was safely tucked away, for now. Perhaps that’s where it should stay, inside a pocket, left well enough alone.

The urge to see it again, the silver trees, the reddening skies, the acquaintances and relations he had given up long ago, that urge was so very strong. How many years had he lived with that little mini-scoped momentori of the place in his voluminous transdimensional left trouser pocket, taking it out from time to time to gaze into its time-lensed landscape, his hearts almost breaking? How many times had he brooded in a secret room deep in the Tardis he kept tricked out to look like a favorite hillside overlooking the great citadel? Now he could, albeit at a tremendous amount of calculated risk and a good deal of effort, have the real thing. Amazing. He could go home. “Home,” he tentatively murmured the word. 

The Tardis hummed. He reached out a hand to her, stroking gently. “Don’t be nervous, now. You know you’ve always been my real home, since the day we ran off together. If we do make it back for a visit, I promise it won’t be for long, then it will be just you and me again, old girl, tramping towards the journey’s end, together.” 

He wished there were someone to discuss this over with. He knew what Rose would have said, what she would have wanted. For herself and him. She had always wished to see Gallifrey, she tenderly told him, when he had finally shared his secret room with her one hushed evening. She had cried when he plucked off a shimmering Cadonwood leaf and set it gently in her open hand. She been such a comfort to him all those years he thought he had killed his people, killed his world. She would be overjoyed to know that burden was lifted from him, now.

That was Rose all over. No wonder his mind had perceived The Moment in her form. She had been so brave and loyal. “Is,” he corrected himself aloud. “Is brave and loyal.” In his mind, she would always be living out a safe, and hopefully contented, life one universe away.

It angered him that her universe was permanently sealed away from him, but he could think of five ways to access the pocket universe in which Gallifrey lay. Not fair. A quivering swell of tears threatened to overtop the rims of his eyes and rain down upon the console. He’d have to get a better hold on himself if he was going to Gallifrey. Wouldn’t do to arrive all weepy, not amidst that self-important lot of humorless buttoned-down prigs, and—why exactly did he want to go there, again?

Perhaps if he just popped in and out, quickly, only to see who had made it through the Time War, ask if he might lend a hand rebuilding for a day or two. Get his mind off Rose. Honestly, it had been rather awful, seeing her-but-not-her today. Gut-wrenching. “I tell you what, old girl,” he said to his ship, “let’s go check in and see if they need anything, what do you say?” He reached out to his controls and began bending the fabric of space and time. He needed a do-over. He was going to get it.

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